Desi (dxgrrrl) wrote,

In the deepest, darkest corner of the passenger side of my Honda, tucked safely under a seat without a "jewel" case, was The Chronic. That's right. The mother f'n Chronic. It wanted to be found. It wanted to be listened to. It wanted me to not give a fuck about ho's. 

I got funky on the mic like an old batch of collard greens.  Then I stopped and got coffee.

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